This is my first entry for @fic-writer-appreciation ‘s month of May theme list. Please enjoy!
Title: "Do you trust me?”
Rating: General
Category: M/M
Relationship: Klance
Characters: Keith, Lance
Additional Tags: hesitated kiss
Word Count: 257
"Do you trust me?" He asks. Keith's skin was soft as he ran his fingers across his cheek so he could gently cup it. His eyes were wide and panicky, but the dark grey-purple color emitted from his irises were absolutely beautiful and inviting.
"Lance--"
"Do you?" Again, he asks, but he was already moving. Their hair touched and foreheads brushed. He could practically feel Keith holding his breath, but neither of them pulled away. He was close, all he had to do is lean forward and press their lips together but no, he had to wait and know what he was doing was correct.
"Keith?" The man in question shuttered as Lance breathed his name, each syllable hitting with small yet thunderous notes.
Fingers itched up into his hair, crawling until they had a gentle hold on the back of his neck. The feeling of Keith so close and holding him yet so far made Lance's mind spin like a top. God, when did Keith become a puppet master? Taking him by the strings and pulling his heart so violently that they had landed here. Keith was a damn king of this puppet kingdom in Lance's heart.
He was in the middle of uttering a faint pleasing when his mind and heart were sent trembling by what Keith said. He felt lips against his own and the hand tightening ever so slightly on his nape. Drowning in trust and feelings, so deep that neither of them would want to ever surface.
Turning around in his place, Hinata looked over at the bed where Kageyama laid. He was propped up on his pillow, knees pulled up to his chest as he scrolled through his phone.
This question pricked his interest, it was only rarely that Kageyama would mention anything superstitious, especially in front of someone like Hinata who is scared easily. So, he jabbed his pen into its bag before shutting his homework books and getting up on the bed next to Kageyama. "Why?"
Kageyama handed the phone over. "Oikawa keeps posting stuff about aliens, it is annoying."
After scrolling through the insta feed, which was littered with Oikawa's alien and Iwaizumi obsession, Hinata gave him the phone back and sighed. "Why do you even follow him?" Despite the disgruntled look on his face, Hinata felt it was safe to lift Kageyama's arm and draw it across his shoulders so he could cuddle up to him. Thankfully, Kageyama did nothing more than just draw him closer.
"He was getting annoying." He was silent for a moment, just scrolling through the photos before elaborating. "He somehow got my number and wouldn't stop messaging me until I answered."
"Bah, he needs to back off," Hinata whined, glaring daggers at the picture of Oikawa that was present on the screen. "It is annoying, half the time he hates you but the other half of the time he is desperate for your attention... I wish he would just hate you."
"What?"
"Huh?" Kageyama's voice was so full of shock that it surprised Hinata, causing him to look up at him.
"You..." He stared speechlessly, his eyes widening until the words spilled out, "How could you hate someone? I thought you were friends with everyone."
"Well, I don't hate him hate him." He said, sounding more simple than it actually was. "I just want him to leave you alone-- even if that means he hates you! If he hated you, then he would never speak to you."
Kageyama tapped his phone against his chin, processing what Hinata just said. Taking a breath, he spoke his thoughts slowly. "I think... I think he does hate me completely... he thinks I am better, right?" Hinata nodded. "So, he is probably annoying me to get my attention so I... so he can feel like he is better than... but--"
"Oh! I got you! He--"
Kageyama's hand clamped down on the top of his head, the phone creating a resounding thump as he dropped it. "Boke, don't interrupt me." After a glare, he loosened up; he relented his hold but kept his hand in his hair, gently running them through the orange strands. He continued, "Oikawa is jealous and afraid, and he hates me for that... but I do not think he wants me dead, kind of hate, just beat me down and feel like he is better kind of hate."
"You talked to Suga, didn't you?" Hinata started to absentmindedly play with the hem of Kageyama's shirt. "I wish I was as observant as him! He is so smart." He started to pout but that drifted away as Kageyama started to talk again.
"Ah... yes," His averted his eyes, clearly embarrassed by this. "Suga helped. And even if you aren't that observant, you have other strengths."
---
They laid and talked for a while, drifting in and out of discussion about Oikawa among other things. It was getting late and Hinata was starting to relax into sleep against Kageyama's chest as he muttered, "No, I do not believe in space aliens, only in people who are difficult to understand that hide behind masks."
Notes: This is based off of The Office, Season 7 Episode 25. Please enjoy!
Fandom: Voltron
Characters: Keith as Dwight, Lance as Jim
"McClain. Get in here." Keith's voice sweeps through the manger office's door. At the sound of his voice, Lance rolled his eyes and sighed, sending Allura a small smile which was returned before he stood up and headed towards the office.
Lance pushed opened the door, his eyebrow arched at the sight of the elaborated decorated room, the style completely changed since when Shiro left for vacation yesterday. Many ancient looking relics were placed across the desk with a fish tank sitting behind him, and a tack board on the adjacent wall, emboldened with tacks, string, and newspaper clipping, not uncommon for this sophisticated man. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes. Sit." Keith gestured with the back of his hand, the air of attorney seemed to come off of him which didn't seem to affect Lance the slightest except to make him more gleefully, a small grin had appeared on his lips.
Lance sat where he was told and scooted his chair forward, the difference between the height between the chair and desk was astounding. He glanced around for a moment more before speaking, "Wow, you've really embraced the whole Bond villain aesthetic."
Keith sighed. "Lance." He gestured to the knife on the desk, it's beautifulest was sitting within a glass box with the symbol upon its hilt seeming to glean. "The knife is a Blade of Marmora. Kolivan collects them. I thought we could have some nice small talk about it." Lance nodded. Keith then gestured to the fish tank behind him where's the fish was sitting still within it. "And the piranha's a rescue."
"Cool." Lance commented lamely, fixing his tie before looking back up at the acting manager. "And the desk..." His phone was ringing on the desk which he ignored to pay attention to Keith.
"The desk is a replica of Zarkon's desk. I saw a picture in Newsweek." The desk was also another elegant part of the newly decorated room. The base of the desk was made out of black stained wood, a purple sheet was spread over the top and draped over the sides; the purple sheet was adorn with small silver dots, representing stars as seen with the huge constellation across the front (it was presumed that the constellation is Scorpio since that's when Keith’s birthday is).
Lance was only mildly interested in the desk but he went to comment only to be cut off by Keith. "Listen. I'm a very busy man. Let's get right down to business."
"Okay"
"Kolivan is coming later today. I cannot have a subordinate trying to make me look stupid. Okay? I need you to promise me that you will be on your best behavior." He said with full seriousness, talking down to Lance. He pushed up red glasses, awaiting for his response.
The familiar look of toying crossed Lance's face as he found the perfect moment to mess with Keith; this look was unnoticed by the man in question. "I promis....ed other people that I'd be on my worst behavior. And I gave them my word, so..." He shrugged.
"Don't make me fire you."
"You can't fire me." Lance retorted without hesitation. "You're acting manger. Not office manger. So you have no firing powers."
Keith's eye twitched with annoyance. "Don't make me pre-fire you."
Lance responded mockingly, "You wouldn't dare."
"Watch this. You're pre-fired." Keith thumped his hand on the desk. "And when I am prompted, you'll be full fired." He leaned forward to seethe at Lance but he was quickly pushed back in his seat as Lance stood up.
He placed hands on desk before him and leaned down close to Keith. He whispered, "If you get promoted, and if you haven't fallen in love with me by then." A stupid grin couldn't be suppressed and escaped out onto his face.
"What?" Keith pulled a face of disgust and confusion. "Get out Lance, I don't want to see your ugly mug again."
~~~~~~
Lance laughed at the camera man's question. "If I had thought that there was a real chance that Keith would be permanent manager, I would have pre-quit. And you might be saying to yourself, 'well, that's pretty premature to think', but I always say it's better to pre-pre-prepared." He smiled and winked to the camera.
Inspired by 64 Sensory Prompts
(___) is inspired by
** personal
__ original works
1) Watching a meteor shower: (Bakugo Katsuki)
Eyes sparkling, he stared up at the sky in awe. It looked dangerous, heated, and violent, yet beautiful. The majority of the rocks explode in the air like fireworks, but with reds and oranges instead of blues and greens. Bigger rocks plugged down but either exploded or disappeared from sight as they hurtled towards the ground. He was staring in astonishment as his friend walked over and clapped his hand on his shoulder, saying that he had never seen this look of amplitude on his face before. It was all fascinating, these rocks from space, outer-fucking-space, were coming down to their planet out of all of the infinite other places they could go. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and he will never forget it.
2) Digging your fingers into the fresh dirt: (Sawamura Eijun)
You are digging with a shovel, pulling the dirt from the ground in weak pulls. Your mother gives you a patient smile, telling you that it takes a bit of effort but its worth it in the end. Some time passes and you get impatient; the shovel is too hard to use and your arms are getting sore. So, as any little child would do, you get on your hands and knees and start to scoop the dirt from the hole like a dog. Hands pass over each other in vigorous motions as you try to open the hole up more. Your mother notices this after a moment and pulls you back with a sigh. There is not much to punish on, your hands are covered with dirt, which would happen anyways, and the hole was dug well so she waved it off. Within the next month, the most beautiful flowers bloom from the hole that was made.
3) Snow being shoved down the back of your coat: (Yuuri and Phichit)
Screaming and flailing he goes as his best friend cackles in the background. The pair were having a peaceful walk in the park when the friend suddenly yanks down his hoodie just to shove snow down his back. His back is prickling with cold-wet sensations as the snow instantly started to melt and roll down his back, leaving a trail of wet skin and clothes. Out of slight anger, he whips around with snow he snatched up from the ground and chucked it at his friend, not even caring to make a snowball out of it. His friend continues to laugh and laugh, only shutting up when snow is shoved down his jacket as well.
5) Trying to walk on ice:**
The schoolyard was covered in ice. I watched as people slipped and slid over the icy snow as they had the time of their lives, laughing and bring the cold air joy. My friend that I had been making snow forts with the days prior was absent, sick probably, so I had to find a new thing to do. I glance over to the side to see a few more friends sliding down a mini snow slide onto the ice-covered pavement. I don't remember why I had it but I was clutching a small orange cat stuffie to my chest as I started to walk over. The pavement between the makeshift slide and myself was covered in a thin layer of ice. One step, two, three step, four, five step, PHEMP; I fell and landed on my butt. This isn't as much as a surprise as it was a regular act, seeing that the winters here are cold. Later that day, after lunch and recess, I notice that my cat stuffie's paw had been ripped upon impact.
6) Walking through the woods: (Kiribaku)
Walking through the forest gives a place to clear your head, so that is just what he is doing. Within him was so much built up anger that he needed somewhere remote just to scream and explode, both in the literal and metaphorical sense. Sometimes he does not even end up blowing up before he goes home, he just finds a cliff to sit to gaze out over the mountain on. Here in the forest, there is nothing except vibrant leaves and silent animals. The first time he told his friend about where he goes more weekends, he received a look of shock until he stiffly explained that sometimes he just needs space from the overwhelming world and that being out on the cliff helps give him perceptive of the world.
Today, he had brought that very friend. No one, not even his family was invited to see his escape but with this friend, he felt the same around him as he felt when wandering the forest. This friend lets him clear his head and has his body relax until he feels like venerable jelly. He will never regret bringing him with.
8) The way cold glass fogs when you press your hand against it:**
It reminds me of my childhood. Sitting on the bus on the way to school. Pulling gloves off to press a warm hand against the cold glass, ignoring the sharp pricks for the cool sensation. The bus is cold but I am warm, the fog around my hand speaks that as I withdraw. Seeing this reminds me of Harry Potter when Ron has his hand on the train window when the dementor floats in with its demonic aura. Sometimes looking out the chilly bus window lets my thoughts wander into this area of mystery. As a child, just this creation of fog seems like a mystery in itself, and it still seems this way when you grow up when you learn why this is happening but still the mystery remains in what else this reaction can procure.
11) Blood at the corner of your mouth:**
Most would see this prompt and think of fighting but honestly, to me its the most mundane thing in the world: a split lip caused by picking. Fingers work at the split, picking and pulling until the skin is removed, little by little until it bleeds and you are satisfied. This is no self-harm, that should be said upfront, just a thing that happens when your mind wanders and your hands finds something to do without your promoting. When you finally bleed, your tongue instantly jumps to it, tasting the foreign substance and labeling the copper taste as blood. Your mom may tell you to stop it since it could get worse and rip more, but your hands ignore this and you go back to this when in thought. Soon enough you find it painful and you stop, but you should have stopped when your mother warned. There's a constant strain on the corner of your lips as it attempts to heal. Talking and laughing and especially yawning is bothersome; every time you perform this action it pulls at the spot until it opens back up and your tongue instantly jumps back to it. One day, you forget you even had the cut in the first place and you move on, sometimes your hands going back to that place or wander on to pick at something different.
12) Cloying sweetness on the back of your tongue:**
"Cake, everyone loves cake!" is from a line of a famous movie but you sometimes beg to differ. The cake from your grandma's favorite bakery is sicking sweet and you can't help but grimace at the first bite. It would be rude to say no to the cake, but it was absolutely atrocious and you cannot bear to eat anymore. You flash your mom a guilty look and she understands instantly, since she is probably thinking the same exact thing., so she takes your remaining cake. Your grandmother doesn't seem to notice or care so you get up from the table to fill your glass up to rid of the taste. It is only hours later that you finally forget the taste and move on with your day.
15) The taste of salt on the tip of your tongue:**
He seemed to be suffocating. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he gasped for breath. The original reason for crying was too far gone as his mind kept supplying him with more and more evidence on why he was unworthy. He doesn’t remember licking the tears off of his lips but suddenly he tasted salt and somehow that made him cry harder. Everything seemed to be crashing down upon his shoulders as he internally screamed for release. Even crying seemed like a reason to cry more. Crying is something toddlers do right? Shouldn’t he be looked at like a toddler then? A crying, annoying, insolent little toddler who can’t do nothing for himself, it seems.
He goes asleep that night with salt on his lips and thoughts of pain
19) Satin in candlelight: (Akafuri)
He woke up in the dead of night. Shadows were dancing across his walls, the trees outside his window causing the shadows to look like long grasping fingers, inching closer and closer to grab the man in the bed. But, he did not react to the shadows. He watched them for a minute, wondering if this could be some sign or just boring reality. Of course, it ended up being boring reality so he got up from his bed. Despite its thin apprentice, the black satin robe gave him some warmth as he dawned it. ‘People are much more interesting than shadows’ he thought as he lit the candle that sat upon his nightstand. His secret lover was sleeping a few floors below and seeing that he was a person and his lover, he decided to go pay him a visit. The floors and stairs creaked as he stepped upon them but he paid no mind to it if anyone was awake other than him at this hour would be a miracle.
As he approaches his lover’s room, he opened the door without hesitation. There he was, sleeping on his bed, curled up in the sheets shaking like a small puppy in the night air. It hurt him to see the man he cared for cold and weak, but he was unable to supply him with any material warmth since his father would blame him for stealing and send him away. So he walks in silently, places the candle on the night table, and unties his robe. His lover slowly blinked up at him as he woke up, his expression conveying curiously yet gratefulness as the robe was draped over him.
20) Reflections in glass:__
It was like an overlay. No matter how many hours a day he spent clicking and scrolling on his computer trying to edit and recreate photos could match what a real overlay looked like. He gazed at the window, watching his coworkers run around the office through the reflection in the glass. He tried to ignore the reflection of his own bored and tired face but it was vividly there. Behind him and his coworkers and outside the window was a view of the busy streets of the inner city. Outsiders may see this as a new, wondrous place but to him, it was the same day in and day out; cars zoom past just to go nowhere. people stroll past just to see no one, life creeps past just to end in nothing. Bored, trapped, he felt as he kept gazing, unfocusing and refocusing on the reflections until he got bored of that as well. 'maybe a change in scenery will help...' he thought lonesomely.
22) Neon lights at 1.30am:__
Laughter echoed throughout the deserted parking lot. According to the time on my phone, it was evident that we had been roaming the streets for a few hours now and currently it was 1:30 in the morning. Typically we would be sleeping or using our phones in bed at this sorta of an hour but tonight was a special night: we were free; we were free from school, parents, and life itself. This night we had decided to live how we wanted to for one whole day before going back to normal. A few of the group had left to either do more enjoyable things or something wrong, probably illegal by the glint in their eyes. I stepped out of the main group for a moment to take a breather and embrace the night air. The last of my soda tingled in my throat as I drank it before disposing of the can. Of course, a few of us had decided to get hand drinks but me? I rather make my own fun than being boosted but something other than.
As I dropped the can into the trash bucket, I noticed a bar across the street that was emitting music loud enough to be heard. For a moment I watched as the people inside danced with wide smiles across their faces. While I was so drawn to this scene, I did not notice my best friend-crush approach me until he tapped my shoulder. I yelped of course before turning to him. What I saw was beautiful. His face was lit up blue and red from the nearest neon sign and he was bearing a soft smile and even kinder eyes. At this moment, a wild urge overtook me so I gave in and reached my hand out to him saying: "If you ever wanna join me, baby, I'll be dancing in the dark." [inspired by Dancing in the Dark by Imagine Dragons]
26) The smell of Cologne/Perfume on warm skin: (This was an original work but now I dedicate it to a special someone :P just yeet the cologne part dwai)
The first thing that comes to mind is that of my face pressed against my love’s neck. I press kiss after kiss, roaming the warm skin with my lips and fingers as I plot the points of love across his expansive map. The cologne just makes the experience heightened. The smell intoxicates me; the scent is familiar and that I can only label by my lover’s name. My mind spins as I want more and more of the person before me, a person filled with comfort and warmth. Eyes hooded, mind fogged, I searched for more skin to kiss.
27) The musty smell of an abandoned home: (Hinata and Yachi)
She glanced at her partner to see that he was shaking in fright. Their friends had pranked them to go into the abandoned, mysterious house that sat in the middle of the woods. She had managed to get the door open when he had screamed and started to shake. Typically her friends called her the scaredy cat but when he was so frightened by even a fly, she had to step forward to protect him. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him into the house. The flashlight revealed that it was a standard home; living room in the front, kitchen to the side, and bedrooms upstairs. It should be noted that they were the first two ever to go inside, so everything still sat where they were placed years ago. Other than the darkness and bleakness of the house, the thing that most hit her was the smell: it seemed to clog her nose with all of the dust and particles that had not normally been flushed out of the house. She sneezed loudly just to receive another scream from the boy.
31) the cool, sharp smell of the first frost: (Todoroki family)
This was expected. Her little brother was finally gaining his powers. She laid awake most nights, wondering how their father would treat him once his powers take. The hair itself showed a perfect split of powers but only time could tell what would actually happen.
Her little brother ran into her room one night, tripping over his small socked feet as he tried to be careful of the dark surrounds even in his panic. He nearly crashed into her bed if it was not for her turning on her lamp. Mismatched eyes were filled with tears and for a second she was confused on why until her eyes drifted down to see his fist covered in a thin layer of frost. Her fears stood corrected, he had obtained both of the quirks; the fire was not visibly present but it wouldn't be surprising if it suddenly out lashed. But, enough with their fathers, she had a small crying little boy clearly afraid of what was happening to him. She grabbed her blanket from the bed and knelt down before him before wrapping his hand in the hem of the blanket before he got frostbite.
That night, they fell asleep night to each other but her dreams were plagued by visions of flames and hatred.
32) The smell of blood: (Akafuri)
His lover sat before him, his hands shaking as he held up a bundle of flowers. It was perplexing to see pure white roses since he had only read of them in storybooks. Where did he find these? He raised his hand to touch one of the pure roses when movement caught the edge of his eye. His lover raised his hand before curling it up in a fist. Raising an eyebrow, he went to fistbump instead as he was taught but before their fists could connect, blood started to drip from the fist. Instincts told him to grab the hand, open it up and tend the wounds but no, the piercing laughter that broke out from his lover's lips made his body stop and mind freeze. Blood dripped down upon the bundles of roses, staining them red as he laughed and laughed and cried out that while love is pure, it is also painful. The crackling went on and on and on.. and on.. and on... and...
His eyes snapped open. Breathing harshly he sat up in his bed, pulling and grasping the blankets before him. The cursed laughter filled his ears and the smell of blood tickled his nose.
33) The feel of fingertips trailing over a bare shoulder blade: (Miyusawa)
The knife hit the cutting board with dull thumps and I sliced through the celery sticks. For the most part, the house was quiet other than the sounds of the birds chirping out back and Slider, the dog, snoring peacefully in his bed. It was just a lazy Sunday morning. The pan sizzled and popped as I dropped the sticks in among the other vegetables and meat, the smells of my favorite breakfast making me smile softly. After stirring the contents a bit, I reached up and brushed my fingers across the bruises on my neck, not minding the soreness that much opposes to their appearance. Not much could be done about that so I go back to cooking; chopping up onions is the next step. As I started to slice through the onion, soft fingertips were felt on my shoulder blade. I did not jump like expected, just sighed lightly as my lover pressed kisses to my shoulders before wrapping his arms around me. I would never jump at his touch anymore, I would just lean in and feel loved.
34) The feel of fingers brushing together by accident:__
Brushing against him was the easiest thing. Seeing that I often hug him and sit against him it would be reasonable to think that I would not notice a simple brush of knuckles but no, I notice every time. Every time we go for the plates at the same time, every time he passed me a glass, every time he-- heh, not all of the touches where accidents to be honest, just purposeful reaches to touch. I couldn't help but smile at his sleepy grin as we twine our fingers together before pulling apart just to let him boop my nose and pull at my fingers. Those touches are wonderful but also are the small ones. The accidental bumps where fingers meet and warm spreads throughout from the single point of contact. I want to grab his hand fully and press a lingering kiss to his lips, to get closer and closer making the simple brush seem meaningless. But no, I do not get the kiss but that is okay; feeling the small touches and seeing his happy smile is enough to keep my heart singing and mind buzzing.
39) Stepping on something squishy: (Sawamura Eijun)
Someday, God will pay, he thought as he glared down at his foot. Stepping in dog turd was not a way he wanted to start his first day of work or any day in fact. It was disgusting— if it were not for it being the poop but purely the sensation he still will be grossed out. Even now, he can already hear his coworkers’ laugher as he walks in with smelly, brown shoes. For a moment he cursed the pet owner for leaving the poo before he realizes it was his own ignorance for stepping into it on accident. Sighing again, he started to walk, hoping numbly that he would find a shoe store or a bathroom on the way to his new office.
46) The waver in a person’s voice when they’re stressed:**
"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know." He repeated, the words coming out waver and waver as he continued. Eyes stared at him. He couldn't tell if it was one person watching or thousand just that it was overwhelming and stressful and all he wanted was /out/. He did not know the answer, why are they pressuring them? Why are they being this way? Why do they not care that every part of them is screaming for escape but just the idea of being hurt is enough to make him stay? Why, why, why?
He is scared, so scared inside. Apparently, he is not allowed to be wrong; apparently, he is not allowed to be hurt and in pain; apparently, he is not allowed to be scared, like any normal child. But there they are before him, looking at him with a neutral face, unforgiving and hard look in their eye.
His repeating falls silent as tears finally spill and he is choking on his own sadness, sad that only not knowing one thing can turn out so painful.
49) Trying to pull on clothes with damp skin Trying to pull off damp clothing:**
Taking off wet clothing for most people meant they had just trudged through a snowstorm and were having the worst day and were struggling to find dry clothing but for me? It meant happiness-- but then again, once most people reach a certain age that does not take care of children take snow for granted. Unlike those people, I walk into my house with a huge grin on my face, not giving a care in the world that the floor was getting covered in snow. The snow boots I wore gave me blisters with turned into scars but I did not care about that either. But what I did care about was getting warm. Running upstairs I grabbing a fresh pair of clothing before heading into the bathroom. Letting out a sigh, I try my best to pull off my soaked shirt just to get it stuck on my head. Laugh, have fun with that imagery, but yes, almost every single time. Luckily enough I get it off without help and that in itself is a workout. So within all of this, the important lesson that should be noted is that whenever you go out into the snow, make sure you are prepared for the endgame struggle.
53) The relief of fatalistic recklessness:__
"Fate rules all." This was the topic of the paper he was set to write. He did not understand why his professor assigned them just a simple sentence that could turn into the most complicated thing in the world. Fate was always a heated topic among every living person on the planet; no one goes each day wondering if things happen by free will or predetermined events. Religion and culture are heavy on these topics but he much rather put those to the side for the last resort option. He does not understand the looks of peace and relief that some of his friends wear as they do some of the most reckless things with their lives and just say "no matter what I do there is already a set plan for me". He wants to argue with them up and down and give reasons why that was not true but like anyone else, everyone has their own beliefs. If they want to believe that their lives are already set courses, then be it, there is no trouble in trying to get the best for yourself...
Hours later, he sits back in his seat and sighs. His fingers tired from rapidly typing keys as his runs them over his face to try to rid of the sore eyes. Yawning, he grabs his glass before glancing at his paper one last time before turning in for bed, and at this, he realized that all he wrote was about the argument of the topic and what he thought about it. Maybe he will get a great grade when turning it in or not, that is fate to decide.
56) Someone accepting the bad parts of you without judging:**
Someone very important to me once told me, “If you act like yourself, everyone will be much happier, including yourself.” The statement in itself is somewhat blunt but the impact it had on me was huge. It meant that I could be unapologetically me, all of the good and all of the bad and that no one will think horribly of me. Of course, there’s a lot of people that will but around my closest friends, that meant they accepted me for who I am.
Telling someone your pains and anxieties and all the while your wondering when they will leave and abandon you for you being you is painful, but just as you are trying to swallow back your tears, there’s that special someone who takes you by the hand and tells you that everything is gonna be alright and that just because sometimes about you are dark doesn’t mean that you are not the light.
57) Brown iodine stains on skin: (my mother)
It is painful to watch. Yes, what had happened to her was painful but the situation she had to come back to was more painful to watch. Although we still sometimes laugh at the horrific sandwich incident, the rest of the situation was not funny. A couple of weeks before she had gotten surgery on her wrist and hand, rendering her without her right hand (although she was ambidextrous), and today she was finally pulling the bandages off. Surgery and medical operations always make me feel queasy inside but before she wrapped her hand up in new bandages, I noticed orange-brown iodine stains covering her hand. She noticed the look on my face and said not to worry, that it will fade away soon enough. I knew there was nothing to worry; in the past, she had gone through knee surgery, GBS (which is a thousand stories in itself, lucky to have her here still) and broken foot so something like this is nothing to be extremely worried about. If she could get through what happened before, she can get through this, and she did! I am lucky and proud of her healing and attentiveness to get herself to be better, physically at least... the painful part about watching the post-surgery at home was the utter lack of caring by my father. It was basically nothing, no offers, no taking charge-- he basically put more on her than usual. It was painful to watch her suffer mentally to all of this, so I had to take a step forward myself and help her.
58) Rust red dirt: (Shiro and OC Violet)
Sometimes when he wakes up, he forgets where he is. Most days he is expecting to wake up at home in his bed next to his beautiful wife and to go downstairs and give his children forehead kisses good morning. He only realizes that he is not at home is when the flashes of lights from nearby control panels catch his eyes and that the bedding below him was stiffer than any mattress he would purchase. Groaning he sat up, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. Every day here makes him miss home more. He is starting to miss the smallest of things; he misses the sound of tussling sheets, he misses the taste of sweet soda, he misses the feel of fingers on his cheek, he misses the smell of freshly cooked steak, he missed the sight of the annoying, awful ad on Tv that he actually likes since it makes his wife laugh every time. He misses his home.
Standing, he walks over to the nearest porthole and stares out. The only thing he was met with was miles and miles of red rust dirt and rocks as big as houses, and behind it was a beautiful view of space that he was slowly starting to hate. If he knew he would be his homesick up on Mars, he would have never signed that contract.
59) the creak of leather: (please forgive me, be glad I’m sharing this at least):
Leather gloves are intoxicating. Leather fingerless gloves are the prime. He runs his hand down your arm. Your breath jumps, eyes fixated on his hand as your nerves start to buzz from the simulation. When he does this, you get two sensations: the drag of fingertips and the soft pull of leather, both creating this incredible feeling. You pull his hand to your lips as you press a kiss to his palm and breathe in the succulent smell of leather; an earthy, sweet and raw smell you breathe and you don’t want him to stop touching. You gasp and shift as he continues to touch, rolling his hands over soft plains of skin. You pay no mind to the rest of him, just his hands.
62) Fingertips smudged in blue ink:**
Notes, notes, notes. A constant stream of words and drawings on paper makes your eyes sore as you continue to write. The pen you are using flows across the page; each letter and word from this pen becomes more and more sloppy as time rolls on. As you yawn and go to turn the next book page, your hand slips and you accidentally press your fingers into the wet ink. You don't notice this at first and continue to go turn the page. Minutes or hours later you notice that there's blue ink smudged on your fingertips and palm, and all you can do it try to scrub it out or shrugged, because who has not had a day when they accidentally have ink on their hands. It is evidence of hard work after all!
[So this was written in just 30-40 mins last night when I found a three-noun prompt generator. Enjoy. Yeah, its a cliff hanger so make up your own opinions.]
Lance kicked the dirt off of his boots. He was exhausted, just enough that he would love just to collapse on the ground at that moment to rest but no, being bear food is wrong. To amount on that tiredness was frustration, they were hiking in pairs today but his mate had left him completely lost and alone. And to increase that feeling, he was pissed off at his mate for completely ignoring him for the past few days. Keith is a stubborn asshole, Lance had concluded, always sticking to himself and wandering off. He had even tried to get away despite Lance’s friendly introductions. When he finally thought Keith had softened up to him (Lance had stood opened mouth for about five minutes after Keith had invited to go to the lake with him), he had swiftly turned back into his closed off self again.
A twig snapped as he sat upon the treaded ground but that went unnoticed as Lance stared out into the trees. Typically, he would be beside himself in worry that his hiking mate had disappeared but again, this is Keith, who always does this and comes back unscathed.
But even not caring where Keith went, Lance did feel a twinge of worry.
What if he was hurt and unable to call out?
What if an animal got to him?
What if he was stuck in a log maze of some sorts?
What if he—?
“Fuck you, Keith.” He gritted out, grounding his palms into his eyes to try to erase those thoughts. There’s no point in worrying; if he gets hurt, it’s his own damn fault.
“With what?”
Lance jumped, bristling at the sudden voice. He looked up to see none other than Keith gazing down at him, a sort of half smug smile on his face. He looked unscathed, not to mention his clothes still perfect from earlier: Shiro had accidentally let slip to him that ever since Keith’s father got him that annoying red leather jacket, he had refused to get it dirty, which is amazing compared to the regular jackets he ruins all the time in the forests.
To brush it off, Lance just let out a small laugh. “With the biggest roughest stick I can find.”
“You mean your dick?” Lance nearly leapt up to smack Keith to get rid of that dumb smirk.
“I have a nice dick, thank you very much.” Instead if leaping, he just stood up and brushed the forest debris off of his jeans. Taking a breath to hold back any anger he had, he asked, “So, the first thing you talk to me about is about dicks after ignoring me for three days?”
Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. Keith’s face had turned oddly red yet he looked frozen cold in his spot. He let out a cough, looking away. “I…” he attempted to start but only to just clear his throat, “That’s one of the reasons I asked Shiro to pair us up for the hiking trip.”
“So you could ignore me, run off, then talk nonsense?” Putting his weight on one hip, Lance crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows.
“Stop giving me that look.” He clenched his fists a few times, seemingly debating something in his head before muttering. “I have something to confess.”
Oh. That’s new, Keith confessing. The kid that leaves at dawn and returns at dusk after tracking the forest, the kid that threw a whole plate of eggs at the mere joke of someone stealing his rainbow knife while he slept. He was actually confessing something.
“Let’s here it.”
He took his cap off to run his fingers through his hair, calming and collecting himself. This looked genuine so Lance waited until he was done getting himself together, not saying anything. After a moment, he started. “Lance, I think… I think I might have feelings for you and—“ His face turned a bright red, which was half covered by the jacket collar he was holding in front of his face. “And I don’t know how to understand it.”
For the second time since camp started, he was open mouthed and stunned by Keith’s words.
Before he could shape any sort of reply, Keith started to ramble, “I get it if you don’t like me back or anything. I really don’t know what to do. Shiro said I should confront what started the crush and work from there… but now I started to think he meant what /action/ started this, not the person. But I don’t need you to like me back, I just needed to say it and—“
“Um, Keith, buddy?”
Writing a story including a set of three things: 3) The ocean, the color orange, a knife. <3
[Wow, I forgot about this until today. Here’s a mini thing I wrote just now]
Hinata and a… Knife?
Pairing: KenHina
Fandom: Haikyuu
For: @yuuriandviktorr
Tired, relentlessly tired. Being around people is draining and, quite frankly, also annoying. Across the beach were groups of volleyball nerds yelling and splashing in the water which he had been stranded in a bus with for the past three hours. Kenma did not leave the bus like the rest, but had found the furthest seat to curl up and sleep in. Currently, he had stolen Kuroo’s travel bag as a pillow and was using his cat print blanket to cover up. His phone buzzed against his hip so he slipped it out of the covers. A small involuntary smile grew as he read the message and typed out a reply:[Shouyou: KENMAAAAAAAA WE ARRIVED!!][Kenma: Good. I’m hiding in the bus.]Not even a second after he sent the message, the bus doors were flung open with a snap and a human shaped object threw themselves down the isle. “Kenma! Hello! Why are you in the bus?” Shouyou stopped himself before the hiding seat. He was so disheveled that it was almost cute; his stark orange beach bag was hanging dangerously on his shoulder, as if asking for Kenma to fix it causing his fingers itch to reach, his hair was squished to one size, evidence that he had forced himself to sleep upon someone’s shoulder to contain his excitement, and in the hand that wasn’t holding a water bottle was a knife… okay, that is definitely not cute in the hands of his crazed, animated boyfriend. “Why?”Shouyou glanced down at the knife where Kenma was staring then laughed. “What? It’s just a knife. Tsukki didn’t want to carry it so he gave it to me.” He shrugged. “I think he said something about wanting to see if I would kill someone but who knows. He’s weird anyways.”After checking and rechecking mentally that Shouyou was holding the knife carefully, Kenma stood up and stretched out his tired limbs before folding up the blanket. “Since you are here, I guess its time to go…” Just after five seconds, he already missed his small hiding corner.“Really? I was planning to stay with you for a bit.”“Huh?”“Yep! I didn’t even change into swimming shorts yet, because I figured you would want to rest for a bit after the bus ride. But, since you are up, why don’t we go look at the beach side shops?” Kenma would be lying if he didn’t admit that chest warmed in happiness and that he had an urge to kiss his boyfriend when he said that. The orange swimming shorts were, in fact, vacant and instead he was wearing his gym shorts along with a blinding smile. Sometimes, Kenma asks himself how he deserved to have such a nice boyfriend.
